


Flopping the LIttle Guy

by withdiamonds



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-25
Updated: 2003-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 12:04:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withdiamonds/pseuds/withdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don We Now Our Gay Apparel, 2003.  Lance and Chris pull pranks and have a lot ”” of sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flopping the LIttle Guy

The Pop Odyssey Tour was hard work. Lance sometimes thought that they ran around on the stage almost more than they danced on it, and the props were big and the gags obviously dangerous. Joey was still favoring his left leg. Sleep was at a premium, and while sleeping on the bus was fine, Lance always appreciated the opportunity to sleep, and if the truth be known, fuck, in a real bed. A nice king-sized bed, in an expensive hotel with over-priced room service, free bathrobes, and bad porn. Life didn’t get much better than that. He snuggled down into the covers, snuffling against his pillow. He drifted off to sleep again after Chris got up, just because he could.

“Lance. Lance! Lance, wake up, you Southern-fried loser!” Lance was suddenly assaulted by cold air as the bedcovers were yanked off and his nice, warm cocoon disappeared. Chris bounced in the middle of the bed. Luckily, Lance hadn’t been sleeping in the middle, so Chris’s knees and elbows missed coming in contact with his head, and more importantly, his groin, by a good foot or two.

Lance wasn’t really ready to be awake yet, but he thought it would probably be safer if he was. It was sometimes necessary to keep a close watch on Chris and his flailing appendages, so he opened one eye and growled, “I swear, you’re a menace in the morning.” His hands instinctively protected what he considered to be the most vital of his vital organs as Chris came closer with each bounce.

“I didn’t hear you complaining yesterday morning,” Chris leered at him. He had apparently already showered, because his hair was wet and he had a towel wrapped around his hips. His toothbrush stuck out of the corner of his mouth.

Lance opened his other eye and grinned sleepily back at him. “Don’t bounce on the bed with that thing in your mouth.” Yawning and stretching his arms above his head, he allowed his t-shirt to ride up his stomach. He lowered his arms and cupped his dick through his pajama pants, no longer protecting it from unexpected elbows, but teasing it. Chris’s eyes narrowed and he stared as Lance moved his hand, slowly rubbing himself through the soft fabric.

“Ooh, baby, it’s showtime,” Chris whispered happily, settling back on his heels, and tossing his toothbrush onto the nightstand. His brown eyes gleamed with anticipation. Lance kind of liked seeing him sit so still for a change.

Lance smiled and moved his hand to the elastic of his waistband. He tucked his thumb under it, his fingertips lightly brushing his cock. As Chris watched avidly, Lance pulled his pajama pants down in front, stroking his balls, then lifted his hips enough to tug them down over his ass with his other hand. He lingered, fingers curved over his ass, curling close to where he could still feel slick lube from the night before. Chris stopped breathing.

Lance held himself that way for a moment, then brought his hand to his mouth and licked the palm, one long swipe. He grasped his dick and started to jerk off slowly, not breaking eye contact with Chris. With his other hand, he teased himself, rubbing, pushing inside just a little with his fingertip. He pulled his knees up and spread his legs so Chris could see exactly what he was doing. Chris had started breathing again, and was now making little gasping noises with every inhalation.

Lance closed his eyes and his head dropped back on his pillow as his hands moved faster. It was hot, knowing Chris was watching him. He wasn’t going to last very long, not with Chris’s eyes on him so intently. That was fine, quick and dirty was fine by him.

“Lance. Come on, Lance, do it, do it, do it,” Chris chanted in a whisper. Lance did it. He came all over his stomach, bent almost double as he fought to breathe. Gasping, he flopped back down against his pillow and managed a weak grin at the expression on Chris’s face. It was predatory and sexy as hell. Lance saw that the towel was gone. “Turn over.” Chris’s voice was hoarse, and Lance shivered as he rolled over onto his stomach. Chris cupped his ass, spreading him, pushing in with both thumbs, and Lance arched his back and cried out. Chris kissed his neck. “Shhh, Lance, hold still.” Chris’s warm weight on his back kept him still when Chris replaced his fingers with his cock. It didn’t take long. A few quick, hard thrusts and Chris stilled, grunting in Lance’s ear, his hips jerking erratically. When they could both breath again, Chris pulled out and fell off to the side. They lay there together awhile, Chris trailing his fingers up and down Lance’s spine. Finally, Lance rolled over and smiled at Chris.

“So why the hell did you wake me up, you freak? I mean besides for the awesome sex,” Lance asked, feeling quite content now, no longer unhappy to be awake.

“There’s a new sound guy starting this week,” Chris said with a gleam in his eye.

“Very cool,” Lance said, nodding at Chris. “What are you thinking? Pin the Tail on the Roadie?”

Chris shook his head. “Too easy.”

“Hot Pockets?”

“Too messy.”

Lance raised his eyebrows at that. “Dipsy Doodle?”

“Nope. Too time-consuming.”

“The thing with the thing?”

“Too…perfect. Bass, you wily bastard, you.”

“You know if Anthony catches us, he’s gonna kill you.”

“Because you’ll make sure he thinks I acted alone, Mr. ‘I’m Not That Innocent,’” Chris grumbled. He brightened. “But we’ll be dealing mostly with Timmy, not Anthony, so that’s cool. I’m also feeling the need for a new sticker to add to my hard hat. We haven’t flopped the little guy in at least a week. You slacker.”

“I don’t know, Chris. Do we really need to tackle the little guy, too?” Lance laughed up at him. “You’re feeling pretty frisky today, aren’t you?”

“What can I say, Bass? You inspire me,” he said, petting Lance’s now quiescent dick fondly.

“Ditto. Now get off me, and let me take a shower.”

Chris rolled the rest of the way off Lance’s chest, planting one last kiss on the tip of his nose.

Lance smiled, swung his legs out of bed and headed for the shower, Chris right behind him. “I think I need another shower, thanks to you, you pervert.”

Lance turned the water on, testing it until it was the temperature he wanted. He stepped in and turned back to Chris, raising an eyebrow. “Get in here, then, and stop complaining.” He took hold of Chris’s dick and tugged gently. Chris laughed and stumbled in after him.

“You’re such a sweet-talker, Bass,” he snorted, before Lance pushed him under the spray and kissed him quiet.

*

When Chris and Lance walked into Joey’s room for breakfast, the other three were there, almost finished eating already. Justin snickered knowingly, without taking his eyes off his cereal bowl. Chris flicked the back of his head as he moved towards the table, and began to butter a piece of toast. By the time he started smearing grape jelly around on top of the butter, Lance and Joey were locked in a whispered conversation in the corner of the room.

They were probably discussing what new kind of animal to bring on their bus this week. Maybe it’d be something Chris could have some fun with. Unless Joey got all PETA on his ass again, like the time Chris used one of Lance’s chinchillas to scare the third assistant wardrobe girl. Joey claimed Jennifer’s screams constituted cruel treatment of poor little Buffy, or Bumpy, or Buzzy, or whatever the hell the big rat’s name had been. He had banned Chris from their bus for a week, and Chris hadn’t gotten laid until they stopped in Chicago for a night in a hotel. Lance had taken Joey’s side, which contributed to the whole not getting laid thing. All in all, it had been a sucky week and Chris still held a grudge. He had been wracking his brains to figure out a fool-proof form of payback, one that Lance would also appreciate, because while he owed Joey big-time, he wasn’t going a whole week without Lance’s fine ass ever again.

He was frowning darkly at Joey, lost in revenge fantasies, when JC bumped him with his shoulder. He turned to glare, but JC was wearing a big, cheesy grin and he couldn’t help but grin back. It was a conditioned response. “What happened to your afterglow, bro?” he asked. He cast an amused glance at the two in the corner and bumped Chris again.

“Quit it, fucker.” Chris elbowed him back. JC giggled. Chris took a bite of his toast and chewed it threateningly at JC. JC beamed back at him and Chris gave up. JC didn’t scare easily. He jammed the rest of his toast in his mouth and called over to Lance, “Hey, Bass, you gonna eat sometime today?”

Lance glanced over at him with a smile. His eyes rested warmly on Chris for a moment before he turned back to Joey. Chris stopped chewing and heat crept up his cheeks. JC laughed again and went back to his bowl of fruit.

Lance gave a final nod to whatever Joey was saying and ambled over to the table. He sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee while Chris hummed with impatience. Lance looked up at him calmly and winked. Chris rolled his eyes and sat in the chair next to him. He figured he may as well have some coffee too, since Lance appeared to have settled in for a leisurely breakfast, one that was going to last longer than the five minutes Chris was hoping for. Lance put a hand on Chris’s knee to stop the bouncing. He squeezed once and let go. “Give me a few minutes, Chris. The new guy will still be here after breakfast.” He looked across the room at Joey, who was now cooing into his cell phone. Briahna wasn’t with them this week. “Go annoy Joey. I know you want to.” He piled some eggs on a plate.

Chris squinted at him, then smacked a noisy kiss on his cheek. Justin glanced up and smiled. Chris made a kissy face at him and popped up to go annoy Joey, as ordered.

“Hey, can I talk to the kid?” Joey waved a hand at him to go away. But Chris was made of sterner stuff than that, and he grabbed for the phone. “Briahna, help, your daddy’s being mean to me,” he yelled.

Joey glared at him and said, “Jesus, Chris, use your indoor voice, man, please. If I let you talk to her, will you leave me alone?”

Chris nodded, lying through his teeth, as Joey knew full well. Joey handed him the phone anyway, staying close to supervise the conversation. Chris couldn’t wait until Briahna was old enough to be one of his co-conspirators. As it was now, all she could do was babble at him. Still, it was never too early to start recruiting. “Hey, Bri, wassup? Your daddy’s a big dork, you know that?” He was sure she recognized his voice by the way she gurgled back at him. Ha, he thought. Just you wait, Fatone. Soon enough she would be one of his faithful minions. Then, oh, the revenge he would extract. He could be patient. Joey sometimes forgot that he could be very patient for the sake of a good prank. Sucker.

He made smooching sounds into the phone and handed it back to Joey, who took it with a suspicious look. Chris batted his eyes innocently at him, went to the table for one last swig of coffee, poked at Lance’s shoulder, turned and announced to the room, “I’ll just be going, then,” and left.

*

Chris talked them all into leaving the hotel early for sound check. “Move your ass, Timberlake. You can call her from the stadium. That’s what cell phones are for.” He and Lance had things to do. Important things. Their plans were cemented and Chris was impatient to get started. He had to enlist Tim for this one, and sometimes Tim had to be persuaded to allow Chris to annoy his guys. Chris knew exactly how to wear down Tim’s resistance, but he needed the extra time.

When they arrived a the venue, JC went to check out the catering, Justin holed up in the Quiet Room with his vanilla candles and his cell phone, and Joey disappeared into the Toy Room to spend some quality time with his drums. Chris grabbed Lance’s hand and pulled him towards the sound stage. There were several people milling around, but Chris spotted his quarry almost immediately.

“Timmy!” Chris bounded up the steps to the sound board and threw himself into Tim Miller’s arms. Tim patted him suspiciously on the shoulder and pulled back to arm’s length.

“Hey, Chris. What do you want?” he asked, getting straight to the point.

“I just came by to say howdy,” Chris replied, using his best ‘don’t you trust me?’ voice. “You wound me, Timmy.”

“Right. What do you want?” Tim repeated.

“Well, Lance here has a question,” Chris said, deciding to magnanimously ignore the implication that he was less than trustworthy.

“Oh, Lance has a question. Well, that’s okay then.” Tim snorted. “Like there’s any difference between the two of you,” he said. Lance smiled.

“We hear you’ve got a new guy,” Chris said, fiddling with knobs and buttons until Tim threatened to tie his hands together with some spare cables. “Ooh, kinky, Timmy.” Chris waggled his eyebrows at Tim.

“Chris, whatever you have planned, the answer is no.” He shook his head at Chris. “No, you can’t,” he repeated firmly.

“Aww, yes, I can. I won’t break anything, I promise.” Chris smiled at him, knowing that Tim, unlike Anthony, was unable to resist his sparkling personality for long. “No one gets hurt, nothing gets broken, no spray paint. Lance promises.”

Tim took a deep breath, giving up more quickly than usual. “I’m busy, Chris. Just tell me what I have to know to avoid freaking out when whatever you’re doing goes down,” he said with resignation. Chris did a small victory jig and told Tim what he wanted him to do. Tim eyed Lance, who was leaning against the sound board, ankles crossed, deeply engrossed in his Palm Pilot, looking as if he were doing something important. Chris knew he was just playing Tetris. “You, Bass.” Lance looked up inquiringly. “You should know better than to aid and abet this lunatic,” Tim said sternly. Lance smiled again.

“I know, I know. Y’all don’t know how often I tell myself that,” he laughed.

“You know what we should do?” Chris asked ignoring Lance completely. “We should wire Joey’s headset to buzz Morse code in his ear during Space Cowboy.” Tim and Lance ignored Chris just as completely. “Maybe during Pop, whadya think, guys? Guys?”

Lance pushed himself away from the sound board, grasped Chris by the wrist and towed him towards the big stage. “Later, Timmy. Thanks.”

“You taking me somewhere to have your wicked way with me, Bass? Maybe with some of those cables Tim was talking about?” Chris shook his head mournfully. “I never knew the man was so twisted,” he added as he bounced along beside Lance.

“You had enough wickedness this morning, Chris. Let’s find JC, ask him how the food is,” Lance said. “I want to grab a bite before soundcheck.”

“Cool. I could eat.”

*

Lance watched Chris from his side of the stage. He loved it when Chris was in the middle of a prank. The energy thrummed through him, sparking between them every time Lance touched him. They had some of their best sex after they pulled some kind of prank, laughing and tumbling down on the first available surface together, pulling at clothes, hands scrabbling over bare skin. Lance’s dick was already ahead of events this afternoon, giving a little twitch every time his eyes met Chris’s. Lance didn’t have much part in this joke, so he could concentrate completely on Chris, on the quick smile lighting up his face, eyes sparkling with laughter. Lance was glad they were doing this at soundcheck, because they would have some down-time afterwards, before they had to get ready for the concert. Lance just hoped Britney was available to spend the late afternoon on the phone, because God help Justin if he decided that Chris just had to play video games with him. Thankfully, the weather was crappy and neither Chris nor Justin would have any desire to take the bikes out. Lance would need Chris’s undivided attention, at least for the time necessary to fuck him stupid.

They started with _This I Promise You_ , which went pretty smoothly, the new sound guy monitoring Chris’s mic. He shook his head in puzzlement but didn’t say anything, just toyed with a few knobs. He looked confused during _Game Over_ , casting furtive glances over at Tim, and wiggling some wires. Chris’s eyes were alive with mischief and JC frowned, catching on to the prank. The other guys hadn’t figured it out yet, noticing that the sound was wrong, that there were only four voices, but not realizing what Chris was doing. But when Chris asked to do _Falling_ next, Justin snickered. He peered over at Lance, and Lance could tell he was ready to cut loose with his braying donkey laugh, the one that make everyone but Chris want to pound him. Lance laughed silently back at him.

The music started, and Chris took a deep breath and launched into the first verse. He opened his mouth and not a sound came out. He closed his eyes and put his head back, apparently really into the song. Complete silence from Chris’s mic. Lance watched him, nodding in time with the music, like he was waiting for his cue to join in. Justin was trying not to crack up, JC was still frowning, and Joey was following Lance’s lead, acting as if he were ready to start singing at just the right instant.

Lance took a moment to appreciate Chris’s lip-synching skills. It wasn’t something they often did, but Chris was damn good at it. Huh.

The new guy was starting to panic. Tim must have filled the other sound guys in, because they were all acting like everything was normal. Tim cast an impatient look at Lance, wanting the joke to be over with so they could stop wasting time and do soundcheck right. Lance knew without looking that JC had the same expression on his face. But, hey, it wasn’t Chris’s fault the new guy hadn’t said anything yet. Lance hoped Tim didn’t blame him for falling for their prank, or for not speaking up sooner. It was never their intention to get anyone in real trouble.

At last, after it was obvious that Chris’s voice was absent from the mix although everything on the sound board seemed fine, the new guy raised his hand and said, “Hold on a minute.” Their voices trailed off one by one as they stopped singing. Only Chris continued to ‘sing,’ apparently oblivious to what was going on. He put his hand on his chest and raised his eyebrows to hit an especially high note, and Justin finally let go of his annoying hee-haw laugh. That was it for Joey, who seemed to be laughing more at Chris than at the new guy. JC even smiled, as if he were glad it was finally over and they could be serious now.

“Chris,” Tim said over his mic. “Chris, that’s enough.”

Chris stopped pretending to sing and just looked around at his appreciative audience and grinned. The new guy looked completely at sea, and Lance took pity on him. He nodded in his direction and said, “Welcome to the crew.”

Chris cackled and hopped down from the stage. He sprinted to the sound board and grabbed the new guy’s hand, shaking it vigorously. “Yeah, hey, welcome. I’m Chris Kirkpatrick, nice to meet you.”

Tim shook his head and said, “Like he didn’t know that already.” He planted his hands on his hips. “Can we get back to work now?” But he was smiling and Lance knew that no one could resist Chris’s charms for long, or for at least the amount of time it took until those charms reached the point of total annoyance. Chris could drive the most unshakeable person totally batshit, and everyone around him had cultivated the skill of ignoring him once he crossed the line from funny to not knowing when enough was enough. Lance could admit they sometimes went a bit too far, which was undoubtedly all Chris’s fault, but he knew how to deal with Chris when the circumstances called for it.

*

The new guy’s confusion had given way to amusement, and Chris appreciated that, he really did. His intention was never to make anyone feel stupid, just to welcome them to the tour in his own unique way. They shook hands and the new guy said, “Nice to know the stories weren’t exaggerated. You are a lunatic.”

JC’s crack of laughter rang out over the empty seats. Chris danced in place. “I rule,” he crowed.

“Chris.” Lance said his name quietly, but Chris immediately stopped pogoing around the sound board. He looked at Lance and saw a slow grin light up his face. Oh, yeah, they needed to finish soundcheck as soon as possible, so he and Lance could get to the good stuff. Justin snickered, watching the exchange. He elbowed Joey and nodded in their direction.

Joey cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “Come on, let’s get going before JC has a cow.”

“Hey,” JC laughed, seeming to know he was being used to cover Chris and Lance’s obvious delight with each other.

Chris clambered back up on the stage, and they took their places, ready to get down to business.

*

Chris buzzed with energy as they headed offstage. He wished the weather was better so he could take his bike out. He wanted to feel the powerful engine between his thighs, with Lance wrapped around him from behind, hard dick pressing against his ass. But he knew there was no way anyone with any sense would let them go, so he resigned himself to calling dibs on the Quiet Room long enough for him to get Lance between his thighs. He tilted his head and considered. That was actually a damn sight better than having an engine under his crotch any day of the week, if he really thought about it.

The others knew where they were headed. Sly smiles and snickers followed them down the corridor as Chris trotted towards the Quiet Room, towing Lance along behind him. “You’ve got a half-hour, Chris,” JC called.

Chris waved him off. “Right, C. Gotcha.”

“Lance,” called JC warningly.

“Don’t worry, C. It’ll be fine,” Lance managed to say before Chris pulled him into the room and shut and locked the door behind them, all in one swift motion. Lance laughed breathlessly as Chris pinned him against the wall and kissed him roughly.

“Mmm,” Chris sighed as he slipped his hands under Lance’s shirt, fingers sliding over warm, smooth skin. Lance whimpered just a little, his hips thrusting helplessly against Chris. Chris was already hard, had been ever since he had seen Lance watching him on stage.

Suddenly Lance moved forward, pushing them away from the wall. Startled, Chris let himself be maneuvered backward until he bumped up against one of the big armchairs. The arm hit the back of his thighs and he reached back to steady himself. Lance dropped to his knees in front of him and began to efficiently unbuckle, unbutton and unzip him. Chris’s ass rested on the arm of the chair, and he leaned back on his hands, his arms trembling with anticipation. Lance mouthed him through his boxers, dampening the fabric with his tongue. He pulled back and blew a soft puff of air on his dick, and the change from warm to cool made Chris gasp. He put a hand out towards Lance’s face, but Lance pulled back and looked up at him, shaking his head and grinning. “Uh uh, Chris, I’m doing this. Hands off.”

“Aw, no fair. I wanna touch.”

Lance appeared to consider this. “Okay.” He laughed and tapped Chris’s hip. Chris lifted up so Lance could pull his boxers down. Then wet heat enveloped him and he heard himself moaning. “Jesus, Bass.” He tangled his hand gently in Lance’s hair.

Lance blew him until Chris couldn’t hold himself upright any longer, and then he found himself swiftly turned around and bent over the overstuffed arm of the chair. Lance, who Chris knew had been ready for this since the minute they stepped onto the stage, retrieved the lube and condom he had stashed earlier under the chair cushion. Two swift, slick fingers, and Chris gasped, “God, Lance just do it.”

Lance fucked him hard and fast, neither of them capable of going slow at this point. Lance’s fingers dug into his hips, holding him ruthlessly in place. Chris tried to get a hand around to his dick, but his belly was pressed up against the chair and he couldn’t reach. He shoved back against Lance until he had enough room to get his arm between himself and the chair. He grabbed his dick, coming hard almost as soon as he touched himself. Lance thrust harder and then he stiffened and growled in Chris’s ear.

They stayed draped over the chair together, laughing, while Chris tried to catch his breath. Lance pulled out, helped Chris up, turned him around and kissed him soundly. Chris fell back, sprawled in the chair and grinning up at Lance. “You do nice work, Bass. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, I think I just flopped the little guy,” Lance smiled smugly. It took a minute for that to register. When it did, Chris narrowed his eyes at Lance.

“If I could move, I’d show you who’s the little guy here, Bass.” He raised his head with an effort, then let it drop again. “Maybe later.” Lance’s laugh rumbled over him. “How much time do we have?”

“About five minutes, I think.” Lance pulled Chris to his feet and slapped his ass sharply. “Let’s go, Kirkpatrick. Move it or lose it.”

*

Lance jumped down the last two steps of the bus, and followed the others into the hotel. He was grateful for one more night in the same place. It had been a long day, and tomorrow would be longer, like most days on tour were. Chris was ahead of him, trying to hitch a ride on Joey’s back, not very successfully, Joey shaking him off without even breaking stride. It didn’t stop Chris from trying, though. Lance smiled fondly at the display of post-concert energy.

Once in the elevator, Joey looked pleadingly at Lance. Lance chuckled and took pity on him. “Chris,” he said quietly. Chris turned his head to look at him, brown eyes shining with laughter, and Lance caught his breath. They smiled at each other and Chris turned away from Joey, rubbing his cheek on Lance’s shoulder.

The elevator doors opened and they all spilled out, bodyguards looking up and down the corridor, making sure there were no fans lurking behind the fake potted palms.

They each went into their separate rooms, Joey, JC and Justin making plans to go out, Chris to get what he needed so he could spend the night in Lance’s room again. When Lance let him in, he dumped his stuff on the bed and asked, “Did I leave my toothbrush in here this morning?” He turned to Lance, who was already stripped down to his boxer-briefs, and eyed him appreciatively. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a shower.” Chris waggled his eyebrows at Lance.

“Isn’t that about where we started out this morning?” Lance asked,

“And your point would be?”

Lance laughed. “Let’s go, you horny bastard,” he said, as he turned and headed towards the bathroom.

“Right behind you, Bass. Right behind you.”


End file.
